


(i thought you were) better than that

by orphan_account



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathing/Washing, F/F, Heartbreak, Mike Wheeler is a dumbass, Nonbinary Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Break Up, Soulmates, eleven is nonbinary, well they dont know it yet but theyre nonbinary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:15:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24064186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: el gets her heart broken, and realizes that having a soulmate is never as easy as the media portrays it as.
Relationships: Background Will Byers/Mike Wheeler, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Past Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

"so.. that's it, then?" mike's quiet voice cuts through the thick, tense silence of the living room. el can hear everything in the room- the fan whirring, the rain against their window, the fridge humming.

and yet, it's all so quiet.

"yes." el manages to get out, her voice cracking pitifully. she's trying, and failing, to keep back her tears. her nails are digging into her bare thighs so hard she's afraid she'll bleed.

it's quiet for a few more moments. el wishes she hadn't worn shorts. she can feel the hairs on her legs standing up, her arms breaking out in goosebumps.

it's raining outside, and the wind is so strong she can see branches flying off trees, and their living room window is open.

she can't bring herself to get up and close it.

"el, please, can we just talk about it?" mike's voice is pleading, almost desperate. he puts his hand over hers, and she pulls hers away quickly.

his face looks so hurt. she hates how not-guilty she feels about it.

"we're.. i mean," he inhales, "i know we're not soulmates. we've known that for.. a while."

el nods, not looking at him.

"i thought you said we could make this work, el. you said you were okay with sharing me." he sounds.. angry, almost. "what happened?"

"i'm not okay with it anymore." she says after a few moments of tense silence, her voice quiet. "i thought i was, but i can't.." she cuts herself off with an ugly sob, folding in on herself.

mike puts a tentative hand on her back, and she sobs even harder, trying not to think about how that's the first time he's touched her- _really_ touched her- in.. a while.

"please, el. i can be better, i-i promise!" he pleads, rubbing gentle- and what would usually be soothing- circles on her back. "we can.. go on dates again, just the two of us!"

el clasps her hand over her mouth to quiet her small whimpers. she's not sobbing anymore. she can't- not in front of him.

"just don't leave, please."

his voice is so pitiful.

something ugly snaps in the pit of her stomach at those words, and she shrugs his hand off her back with a bit more aggression than necessary. he flinches.

she stands up abruptly, turning on her heel to look at him. his face is red, and there are tears streaming down his cheeks.

"i shouldn't leave? all you've been doing for the past six months is leaving!" she can hear something starting to rattle behind her, but she can't bring herself to care. "leaving me for _him!_ you- you didn't even come home on my _fucking birthday!_ "

she's shouting, practically in his face, shaking with.. months of untouched hurt and rage. she didn't want it to happen like this, but,

well.

she's never been good at controlling her emotions.

"i-" mike stutters, his eyes wide. he's never been good at handling her when she's mad. "you said.. you said it was fine."

behind her, a lamp shatters.

they both jump, with el turning around so fast she almost makes herself dizzy. she stares at the blue glass that's scattered across the hardwood floor, along with the broken lightbulb. the only thing that's still intact is the lampshade.

she's panting, she realizes numbly. her entire face feels hot, and her fists are balled up so tightly they're beginning to cramp.

"mike, get out." she tells him, her voice cold. it's a sharp contrast from her previous shrieking.

"el-"

"please!" she raises her voice, squeezing her eyes shut. "just.. get out." the room is quiet once more.

after a few moments of silence, mike asks, "can.. i at least pack a bag?"

el wants to be petty. wants to tell him no, to just get the _fuck_ out.

but she won't, because she can't bring herself to argue with him any longer.

"whatever," she says, storming into the kitchen, which is the exact opposite direction of their bedroom.

she closes her eyes, slumping against the counter, her elbows hot against the cold surface.

for a long while, she listens to her heavy breathing even out, to the whistling wind and heavy rain outside, to mike shuffling around their apartment tensely.

she doesn't open her eyes again until she hears the front door click shut.

she glances into the empty living room, and notices that all the glass has been swept into a neat pile.

and, just like that, she cracks, falling to the floor and beginning to wail like a child throwing a fit. she sits with her legs spread out, and her hands clutching her chest.

it all feels a bit melodramatic, but she can't stop it.

\--

el.. does not remember falling asleep.

all she knows is that she's laying on the kitchen floor, her face sticky with tears and sleep, and that someone's knocking on the door.

the sun is beginning to set, and the room is filled with a golden light, the kind that only comes after a heavy rainstorm.

she pulls herself up, her legs wobbling and her back stiff as she shuffles to the front door.

she takes a deep breath, her hand hovering over the lock. "who is it?" she asks, her voice still thick from sleep.

_please don't be mike, please don't be mike, please don't be mike, please don't be mike, please don't b-_

"it's max!"

oh.

she unlocks the door, her gaze focused on her feet. her socks don't match- one is yellow and covered in flowers, and the other is black and white striped.

"holy shit," is the first thing out of max's mouth. then, "you look awful!"

el knows she doesn't mean it rudely. she knows max is worried about her. she can hear it in her voice.

"mike showed up at will's while i was there, and he was.. crying, like, really hard. and he had a bag. i didn't stick around long enough to find out what was happening, but i kinda figured you would know."

not for the first time today, el just.. crumples, her knees buckling as she sobs, her voice rough. max makes a startled noise, her hands immediately flying out to hold el's body up.

she lets max usher her over to the couch, lets her close the living room window, and lets max wrap herself around el, engulfing her in a warm hug.

she smells so good, like cinnamon and the cherry lotion el knows she's been fond of since high school. her skin is soft against el's.

it's not like mike, whose skin is cold and who smells like peppermint, and that thought brings on a new wave of tears, because she can't remember the last time mike hugged her the way max is right now.

max brushes a strand of hair out of el's face, looking at her with such soft eyes that it makes el's stomach flip.

"what's goin' on? what happened?" she asks, her voice equal parts gentle and concerned.

el sniffles and whimpers, before letting out a strangled noise. "i broke up with mike!" she blurts out, before falling into another fit of blubbering.

"oh, shit." she hears max say, before she squeezes el closer. "why? what happened? i thought you guys were.."

"will!" el hates how hateful the name comes out. she doesn't hate will- she never could. he's.. he's her brother, and it's not his fault that mike is, well.. like _that_.

"ah," max nods in understanding, running her hand through el's curly, short hair. she cut it a week or so ago.

she wanted to get mike's attention. she thought that, maybe, if she looked more like a boy, he'd.. pay more attention to her.

it didn't work. he almost fainted when he saw her, almost sad over the loss of her long hair, which she had been growing out since they were 12.

she doesn't care. she missed this hairstyle- it's easier to work with, and it makes her feel.. more like herself, in a weird way.

she hasn't had hair this short since she was 13. she wonders why she ever bothered growing out her hair when she didn't even like it all that much.

she remembers all of the fuss over her hair, how it got so long so fast. everyone loved to play with it- up to and including dustin, who managed to get it knotted up more than once.

"el?" max snaps her out of her thoughts. "what's going on in here?" she taps the side of el's head, right above her temple.

el feels herself smile slightly, sniffling. "a lot," she admits sadly, resting her head against max's chest, her arms wrapped around her own torso.

"can i ask you something, then?"

el nods.

"why is there a pile of glass on your floor?"

el's cheeks go red. "we.. got into an argument." she admits, not knowing why it embarrasses her so much.

"oh god, he didn't throw it at you, did he? or.. did you throw it at him?" max tenses up slightly.

"what? no!" el huffs. "he said something dumb, and pissed me off, and it just.. shattered."

"oh," max relaxes. "well, that explains this." she swipes her thumb under el's nose, and when she retracts it, it's stained with blood.

it's slightly gooey, and pretty damn thick, so el knows it's still drying.

"ew," el swipes at her nose with the sleeve of her cardigan. the dark red is a strange contrast against the light blue. it's almost pretty.

"that's even more ew," max swats el's arm away from her face, holding it down with both her hands. "why don't you go shower, el? you look like you could use it." her voice is kind.

el feels herself grin. "do i smell that bad?"

max snorts. "you're just sticky everywhere. you'll feel better when you're less sticky." she ruffles el's hair. "go shower. i'll clean up.. that," she gestures to the broken glass, "and order us some food. chinese sound okay?"

el nods, detangling herself from max and making her way through the apartment to get to the bathroom.

"hey, max?" she asks, looking back through the kitchen and into the living room, where max is still sitting.

"yeah?"

"thank you."

el hears max laugh quietly. "go shower, el." she tells her, not unkindly.

el grins.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter of max tryin to make el feel better

she pointedly avoids the half-empty peppermint body wash and the coconut scented shampoo and conditioner throughout the whole shower.

she doesn't remember the last time he touched them. he's only been popping in every so often during the afternoon to grab clothes, or a notebook, or _something_ that el didn't bother paying attention to.

as she squirts her peaches and cream body wash onto her loofah, she wonders if his hair even still smells like coconut, or if it's been replaced by the green apple scent will loves so much.

she doesn't know.

she's not sure if she cares.

\--

when she comes out the shower, only wearing her grey shorts and light pink t-shirt, max is sitting criss-cross on the floor, putting a vhs into the player.

she decided to ditch her cardigan and bra. what's the point? max is.. max. she won't care.

"oh, good! you're out!" max beams at her. her orange hair is tied back into a loose ponytail now, and her denim jacket is hanging on the back of the couch. "we're watchin' something easy tonight."

"like what?" el asks, her eyes glancing over to the tv as it comes to life. the screen is filled with an fbi warning, as per usual with vhs tapes, before flipping to a trailer for a disney movie she's never seen before.

"like the my little pony movie." max grins at her, crawling over to the couch and climbing onto it with the grace of a child.

which is to say, none at all.

el smiles- truly smiles- and flops on the couch next to her, watching as max stretches out. she looks so content in her own skin.

el wonders what that's like.

\--

they eat chinese food, watch children's movies out of el's collection, and..

they both pointedly avoid bringing up mike, up until max asks if she can _"crash here tonight."_

el immediately says yes without even thinking about it, because there's no point in kicking max out when the last thing she wants is to be alone.

they brush their teeth side by side, with max using one of the many spare toothbrushes in their apartment.

max snags one of el's (that she stole from dustin) sweaters, opting to just sleep in her boxers rather than hunting for a pair of pants that would fit her.

and it's all okay, really, until el lays on the bed. she closes her eyes, burying the side of her face in a pillow as max paces around the room and brushes her hair.

she realizes, belatedly, that this isn't her pillow. the case is blue and striped with various colors, as opposed to the light orange colored ones she picked out. the pillow is puffier, less used than hers is.

faintly, she can still smell his familiar coconut-and-mint scent.

and then...

oh. she's crying.

she hears herself let out broken whimpers and sobs, clinging to the pillow, wrapping her whole self around it as best she can.

she misses him.

she hates him.

max is talking to her, prying her gently off the pillow, but el can't make out any of what she's saying to her. el slumps with her full weight against her, causing max to stumble a bit.

she sits on the bed next to el, embracing her tightly, running her hands through her hair. it's strange, a little bit.

max isn't usually one for this much physical affection, other than the usual cuddling they all do with each other.

it's weird. el loves it, in a selfish sort of way.

"i know," max murmurs into the quiet of the room, over el's sobs. she rubs one hand up and down el's back comfortingly.

el lets out a wail.

"i hate him!" she cries, her voice rough. she can feel her heart breaking, completely snapping in half. it hurts, in a weird sort of way.

max doesn't say anything, just continues to make soothing noises and stroke el's hair.

it's the last thing el remembers before she falls asleep. the cinnamon smell of max, the feeling of her hands all over her.

the sound of her own sobs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> el develops some weird feelings after a hard night

el wakes up with the equivalent of an emotional hangover.

she has a headache, and her sinuses feel like they're bruised. the morning sun is shining through the sheer orange curtains of the room, painting the whole room a lovely, warm color.

she feels a body at her side, with their arm thrown across her stomach and their knees pressing into the backs of her thighs.

and for a second, she forgets all of the past few days. _mike is home, he's here with her!_

she beams, turning around to face him, and

oh.

that's.. definitely not mike.

the bright orange hair sprawled across the pillows should've been a dead giveaway. besides her hair, max's face is so much softer than mike's is, with her round nose being a contrast to his beaky one.

her lips are so pink, and they look like they're softer than his is. she knows max uses any chapstick she can find, but always prefers the cherry cola flavor.

el wonders what their weird mix of peach and cherry would taste like on her lips.

woah. jesus.

el flops onto her back, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. she makes shapes with the textures of it, trying to ignore the sudden urge to kiss her best friend, because..

just, no. max is.. her _best friend._ she can't mess that up just because she misses mike.

does she miss mike?

she's.. not sure.

she shakes her head, as if that'll knock the thoughts out of it. her brain is chasing it's own tail. she needs to distract herself before her brain _swallows her whole,_ as joyce would say.

she sighs, getting out of bed as quietly as possible, pointedly avoiding looking at max.

she'll.. make them breakfast. that'll be a good distraction.

yeah.

okay.

\--

it's not, in fact, a good distraction. she burns herself three times, fucks up scrambled eggs twice, and nearly cuts her finger up while chopping up tomatoes to put in said eggs.

but, after an hour of fuck ups, she manages to make a nice breakfast. everything bagels and scrambled eggs with tomatoes and feta in it.

max's favorite.

as she's deciding whether to make coffee or make tea, max emerges from the bedroom, with her bedhead and her face scrunched up, glaring at the light of the kitchen. her shirt is slightly rolled up, and her boxers have slipped down a bit.

there's a strip of milky, freckled skin showing, practically glowing, and el wonders what it would be like to put her lips on it.

she nearly chokes on her own spit at that thought.

"g'mornin'," max grins at her sleepily. "you made breakfast?"

"yeah. i.. couldn't fall back asleep," el lies, leaning her back against the counter. "sleep okay?"

max nods, walking into the bathroom, which branches off the kitchen. "i mean," el can hear the grin in her voice, "your snoring kept me up for a bit-"

"i don't snore!" el squawks indignantly, furrowing her brow.

she hears the sink turn on. "you totally do!" max laughs. "'s so loud, man!" max says around a mouth of foam.

"okay, well, you fart in your sleep," el counters, sitting at the small, round table, where she's placed all the food, "so who's really losing here?"

max spits and rinses her mouth out. "everyone farts in their sleep!" she huffs, poking her head out the door. her cheeks are lightly flushed, and el smirks.

max rolls her eyes, an affectionate smile on her face.

el feels something.. strange, swirling around in her gut. this is all so domestic, in a way she hasn't experienced in..

six months.

will has been experiencing it in her place, and the thought of that makes her stomach drop. max immediately notices el's shift in demeanor.

"are you okay?" she asks, sitting at the seat across from el. she puts a bagel on her plate, beginning to smear cream cheese on it.

"do you remember what it was like when you realized you and lucas weren't soulmates?"

okay, where the fuck did that come from? el hadn't even realized she was going to say it until it came out of her mouth.

a melancholy look fixes itself max's face. "i mean, of course i do," she starts, placing the knife she was using on her bagel onto her plate, "but we were so young, and so dysfunctional, i think we.. both always knew."

el looks down at her lap. "when did it stop hurting?" she asks, her voice quiet.

"it.. hasn't, not really," max admits, her voice wavering a bit. "i loved lucas. still do, but.. not so much like that anymore." el looks up and meets her eye. "our relationship wasn't like yours and.. mike's, y'know?"

"i know." and she does, really. where mike and her used to cling onto each other like safety blankets, max and lucas seemed more comfortable with their relationship, almost. less afraid that it would fall apart if they didn't spend all their time together.

el had always been envious of them, during their teenage years, before lucas discovered his soulmate was dustin.

max and lucas were smarter than her and mike, and never tried to do the triad thing.

"el?" max waves her hand in her face. "you're spacin' out, man."

"do you have anything planned today?" el asks, completely changing the subject and scooping some eggs onto her plate.

she honestly hates tomatoes, but, well..

she made a lot of eggs. might as well eat them.

max reaches over, swiping one particularly big chunk of tomato off her plate and popping it into her mouth. el grins, the tension that was building in the room dissipating.

"i'm gonna go to the library with dustin," max says after she swallows, scooping eggs onto her own plate. "he wants to check out some books on mental health."

"oh?" el takes another bite of eggs

"yeah, i don't even know." max shrugs, "but i do wanna get out the house, even if that means listening to dustin's latest interest." she pauses. "you wanna come with us?"

el thinks about it for a few moments. on one hand, it might help take her mind off of everything. on the other..

dustin, asking about mike. talking about will. talking way too much. looking at her with those prying eyes.

"i'll pass," el says. "i need to clean."

she doesn't, not really, but max doesn't say anything. just smiles at her wickedly.

"you're savin' yourself there, man. dustin's been fucking chatty recently!"

el snorts.

\--

max sticks around until 11, after showering and watching some TV with el. 

the silence is almost deafening after the door closes after max, so el pops in a random movie and turns the volume as loud as she can handle.

she's fine. it's been like this for 6 months.

she's fine. it's fine.

\--

she cleans up, pausing to change the movie on the TV once in the 4 hour time period she spends dusting and wiping down every surface of the house.

it's so dusty, some furniture being untouched for months because they were mike's, not el's. she tries not to think too hard about it.

she washes the bedsheets twice, desperate to get what little of his scent is left out of the fabric. pointedly ignores the yawning gaps in the closet where his clothes were the day before.

his clothes had been disappearing from their closet for months, slowly moving their way into will's. she pretended to not notice, or care.

she noticed. she cares.

the only things left are a few fancy date shirts, as well as an old, faded _ghostbusters_ shirt that she hasn't seen him wear in years.

as she sits on the bare mattress and stares at the closet across from her, she wonders if he'll ever come back for it.

if he'll ever come back for her.

she's not even sure if she wants him to come back for her.

she huffs loudly, flopping backwards, her body in a starfish position as she stares up at the textured ceiling.

she closes her eyes, and

max's lips are the first thing she thinks of. soft and pink and pouty, rough but not chapped. she rubs her own lips together, which are much softer than max's.

how would max kiss?

probably as intense as she does everything else in her life. heated and rough and passionate.

..she probably does that lip biting thing during kissing, the thing that el has seen in a few movies.

the dryer beeps, causing el to jump, her eyes flying open. she sits up, pausing when she notices how all the clothes left in her closet are billowing and flapping as if they're outside in the wind.

it takes her a few seconds to realize she's the one doing it. she takes a deep breath, exhaling as her clothes begin to calm down.

she putters into the kitchen and begins to take out the warm sheets, trying not to think of max.

it doesn't work, but she still tries.

she knows she's just.. lonely, and max has been the only person other than mike she's seen in over a week, so she's just.. stuck on her. 

that has to be it.

she's much too old to be developing a crush now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> depressive episodes are a bitch

the rest of the day passes by in a blur. she makes herself waffles- eggos, of course, and drowns them in a pile of whipped cream and chocolate and jelly beans and syrup.

because, fuck it, she deserves it.

she's watching a rerun of seinfeld when the phone rings, and she nearly drops her plate. thankfully, her phone is cordless, so she floats it over with ease.

"hello?" she starts, placing her plate onto the coffee table.

"hi, sweetheart," joyce's kind voice comes from the other end of the line, and

oh. her throat's already starting to get tight, and her eyes are getting wet around the edges. oh god.

"hi, mama," she manages to get out, her leg beginning to bounce.

"your brother- will, he, um.. he told me what happened between you and mike." joyce cuts right to the chase, and el feels something nasty in her stomach begin to curdle.

so, will can't even man up and talk to her, but can gossip to their mother about her relationship drama.

..no, that's not fair. will's involved in this just as much as el and mike are, as much as el's loath to admit it.

she just doesn't wanna think about those two together, not really.

"ellie?" joyce says, and el realizes she hasn't said anything.

"sorry, spaced out."

"that's okay, dear. i just wanted to make sure that you're holding up okay." joyce pauses for a few seconds, thinking over her next words carefully. "i know these past few months have been.. hard on you."

el nods, before realizing joyce can't see her. across the room, a vhs case begins to rattle. "yeah." she agrees, her voice quiet.

"do you want me to drive down there, honey? we could have a girl's weekend, like we used to when you were younger!"

there was a sudden series of conflicting emotions swirling around inside of her.

being held by her mom, being able to cry into her arms, having her hair fussed with and her nails painted.

her mom, talking about mike and will. will, wanting to see her. too many prying questions.

girl's weekend.

girl.

..huh. why did that make el feel so.. weird?

"no, it's okay." el decides. "i.. just need time alone." she keeps her sentences short, because she knows if she doesn't, she'll end up saying way too much.

"if you say so, my love. just remember, i'm here if you need anything, okay?" her voice is so kind, and el is trying so hard to fight back her tears.

"okay," el says. then, "i love you."

"i love you too. oh! remember to call your father soon, okay? he's worried about you."

"got it."

"talk to you soon, sweetheart." joyce says, before hanging up. el practically throws the phone back to where it belongs before she begins to sob, for what seems like the 100th time in the last 48 hours.

she's wailing, loudly, the way infants cry. she wraps her arms around herself, tucking her knees under her chin.

she doesn't even know why she's crying, or why it won't stop. her chest hurts, and she feels like she's gonna run out of air in her body.

the area around her lips is sticky, and the sweet aftertaste from her triple decker eggo extravaganza is heavy in her mouth, mixing grossly with the taste of her tears and snot.

she feels like a little kid, throwing a temper tantrum. it sucks, and her chest hurts, and her face feels so _gross,_ but the tears just.. won't stop coming.

\--

it takes her a full 30 minutes to calm down, her wails dying down into whimpery hiccups and sniffles. there's a new sitcom on now, one that she doesn't know the name of, but it's.. really bad.

she wipes her eyes with the sleeves of her grey sweatshirt, letting out another small noise before sniffling.

she turns the TV off, dumps what's left of her dinner/dessert into the trashcan in the kitchen, and puts her plate in the sink, all without moving off the couch.

her nose is bleeding, but at least it's not tears.

she gets up and walks into the bathroom, brushing her teeth until her mouth tastes like mint instead of mucus and syrup, and splashing her face with water to get all the grossness off.

as she looks at her drawn face in the mirror, water droplets dripping off her chin and nose, the bags under her eyes darker than they have been in a while, she wonders if it'll ever stop hurting like this.

\--

and so it goes, for a good few days. she sleeps fitfully and wakes up at noon most days, and she doesn't bother cooking for herself after a few days, sticking to microwave meals and whatever chips are in the pantry.

she cries a lot. she's not sure why she's so sad when she's the one who broke up with him.

she spends a lot of time thinking about what'll happen if he comes back. she stares at the door as she does, as if that'll summon him.

she doesn't know if she wants him back.

she thinks she hates him. she doesn't know.

..she thinks about max a lot, almost as much as she thinks about mike. about being held by her. about sleeping in the same bed as her.

about kissing her, which is a weird feeling and kind of grosses el out, because that's her _best friend,_ and she _cannot_ be gaining a crush on her now.

it doesn't help that max calls her a few times a day, leaving silly voicemails. el doesn't pick up. she doesn't really have the energy.

lucas calls a few times too, as do dustin and her mom. the news must have been passed through the whole group by now, from the sound their voicemails.

she never picks up.

steve and robin call once, talking over each other in a voicemail. it, at the very least, makes her smile. steve calls mike a douche-canoe, and robin says el shouldn't waste her time on a gross boy.

it makes her smile, but it still hurts. she knows they don't really think that. that they're just trying to make her feel better.

she wonders what they're really thinking about all this. what they're all thinking about it.

do they think el is being selfish? that she should just suck it up and be happy for him?

probably.

she tried, for so long, to be happy for him.

but it's not easy when someone else's happiness comes at your expense. she wishes she had enough energy to tell them that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> max and el share a moment

after a week, she wakes up to max in her kitchen. she nearly screams, and jumps out of bed so fast it makes her dizzy.

max immediately hears her get up, and turns around with a smile. it falters a bit when she sees the state of el.

her hair's greasy, and the bags under her eyes are purple. she has scabs on her face from picking at it, a bad habit she picked up in high school.

el knows she looks bad. knows she smells worse.

"mornin', el!" max greets, before turning back around and stirring something. el finally takes notes of all the bowls on the counter.

"why?" is the only thing el can get out, her voice thick with sleep.

"i'm makin' pancakes." max doesn't turn around to look at her, just continues to stir. "i know waffles are your preferred batter-made breakfast, but neither of us have a waffle iron."

she's talking so.. normally, as if el doesn't look like a gross monster from one of the dungeons and dragons sessions of their childhood.

or like a demogorgon.

she shakes that thought out of her head immediately, because she really doesn't need to be thinking about that right now.

"i put blueberries in one and chocolate chips in the other. is that fine?" max turns around to look at her again.

"uh," el flounders. "yes?" it comes out stilted, but max doesn't comment on it, which el is forever grateful for.

she hasn't talked to anyone since joyce called. she's a little rusty.

"great! they'll be done in, like, twenty minutes. i'm making hella pancakes. we're gonna fucking overdose on this shit." she flashes el a big, wicked grin, and el returns it with a small smile.

max turns around and hums a familiar tune to herself, while el just stands there, a bit dumbfounded.

"how did you get here?" el finally gets enough energy to ask, after a few moments of silence.

"dustin gave me a ride, and i still have those spare keys you gave me a few years back."

right. dustin declared, when they all found their spots in the city a few years back, that they all have each other's spare keys, in case of emergencies.

except, there hasn't really been any emergencies, so the boys and max usually use it to break into each other's apartments to steal food and mooch around, and el only uses hers when she knows something's wrong with them.

sometimes she steals food from them too.

only sometimes.

max has never used them to get in her apartment, though, so it's all a bit.. weird.

"why don't you go shower and change your clothes, el?" max suggests, not unkindly. "no offense, but you look like you could use it."

el snorts, and it's weird, because she can't really remember the last time she laughed.

she walks into the bathroom, which is just off the kitchen, and closes the door. max is right, she really could use a shower, and she doesn't wanna subject max to her grossness.

\--

el doesn't shower, not really, but she does sit in the bathtub with the water running and the plug open.

she can't bring herself to move her arms, though, which is.. weird.

she just feels so weak, like she did when she left the hospital.

but she's not a starving little kid, 80 pounds and freezing cold with a buzzed head. she's full of chips and microwaved rigatoni and peach yogurt, and is just being _melo-dra-matic,_ which is a word hopper taught her after an argument so long ago.

she sits and stares at the water for longer than she realizes, because max walks in looking concerned.

"el? it's been, like, 30 minutes. are you alright?" she doesn't bother covering her eyes, and el doesn't bother covering herself up. it's nothing max hasn't seen before- they've had to change in front of each other endless amounts of times.

el looks over at her, and watches as her expression softens. she wonders what she looks like to max.

does she look like a monster? all skin and bones and gangly limbs, with her bony knees tucked under her chin and scars littered all over her body.

she thinks she looks like a monster, sometimes.

"okay, hold on," max says, before she steps back into the kitchen. she's gone for a minute, before she walks back into the bathroom with a plastic cup.

she kneels down with a grunt, her joints cracking. el just stares at her, not saying anything as max reaches into the bathtub and closes up the plug.

she remains quiet as max begins to fill up the cup with water and pour it over el's body and head, bringing warmth to the freezing cold surface.

she remains quiet as max squirts some of her rose shampoo into her hands, rubbing it into el's moistened hair. max hums quietly as she scrubs el's short, curly hair.

it's so weird. it's so nice. el can't bring herself to say anything, as if she'll ruin the moment by speaking.

"close your eyes," is the first thing max says to her after 10 minutes. el complies, and max begins to pour water over her head, rinsing the suds out of her hair.

the moment feels as fragile as a soap bubble, and el's too afraid to poke it. she keeps her mouth shut.

"lucas is worried about you," max tells her, her voice quiet. she squirts conditioner into her palm, beginning to massage it into el's hair. "so is dustin. you haven't called either of them back."

el grips her knees closer to her chest.

"you haven't called me back, either." she runs her fingers through the curls of el's hair. "i'm sorry for showing up without giving you a heads up. i was just.. worried." max laughs softly, then says, "but i figured you'd appreciate me showing up more than dustin or lucas."

el nods, a little guilty. max giggles, a wonderful sound that makes el's heart flutter.

which makes her feel a bit nauseous.

"your mom- joyce, she called me yesterday. well, her and hop. they asked me to check in on you. not that i wasn't already planning on it." max just.. continues talking.

she's always been good at filling up the silence of a room when el's not up for talking. she never prods, or tries to get her to talk, which el has always appreciated.

el tries not to think too hard about how she's.. very exposed in front of max right now, and how intimate the moment feels. she's not thinking about leaning up and kissing max to quiet her.

and she is definitely not thinking about more.. raunchy things. how max's short, bitten down fingernails would be so convenient. how her mouth would feel on el's neck.

"robin said she called, too. maybe the three of us should have a girl's day, like we used to in high school! we can all go get milkshakes and mooch around a comic book store or some shit."

el nods, staring down at her feet under the water. she wants to say something, wants to help max keep up the conversation, but she just..

can't.

speaking feels impossible, like she's a kid again and doesn't know any of the words.

"close your eyes."

as max rinses the conditioner out of el's hair, she places a hand on the back of her neck, the warmth of her palm making el shudder a bit.

mike would've never done this to her.

..not current mike, at least. she thinks that, when they were younger, he probably would've. he would've held her and ran his hands through her hair and told her everything would be okay.

she wonders, bitterly, if he does that to will now. if he washed will's hair as tenderly is max is now, or if he talked to fill up the empty space will's silence left behind.

he stopped doing that for her months ago. she doesn't know why it hurts so much now.

"el?" max's voice snaps her out of that train of thought. "what's wrong?" she wipes her hands off on a towel that she's brought onto the floor with her, before using one to cup el's cheek, wiping away a tear, and

huh.

when did she start crying?

"i know, shit's been hard," max is talking again, grabbing a washcloth and squirting el's peach body wash onto it. "i'm sorry i didn't come sooner."

she gently drags the washcloth over el's bony shoulder, and down her arm. it's not as weird as el pictured it would be.

"it's okay," el forces herself to say, her voice trembling. she's not lying, exactly, because it really is fine. she's been fine on her own.

max frowns, dragging the washcloth over the top of el's back and her other arm. "is this okay?" she asks, as she begins to use it on el's underarm.

el nods, sniffling.

"i'm sorry, i just.. started doing this. i probably should've asked," max laughs softly, though there's not much humor behind it. "i just figured.. sometimes it's nice to have someone else take the lead."

el nods in agreement. she's glad max came in here, glad she started bathing el, because.. she probably wouldn't have been able to do it herself.

she uses the washcloth on el's chest, over her breasts. el holds her breath, trying not to make the short, passing moment awkward. max doesn't say anything.

she continues washing el in silence, other than the occasional sound of splashing water or max humming gently.

she stops crying, at some point, and just lets herself get lost in the sounds of max's hums.

max pauses, the washcloth resting on el's lower stomach. "is it okay? or do you wanna do it?" she doesn't say what it is, but el knows.

"it's okay," el manages to get out. she is not gonna make this weird. she is not.

it's.. surprisingly not sexual, as max gently uses the washcloth on el's most.. intimate area. she remembers, the few times mike did this to her, he tried to ham up the sexiness.

now, it's more.. normal. domestic.

much nicer than it ever was with mike.

she feels guilty for thinking that, but pushes it down. she's allowed to be mean, she tells herself.

mike cheated on her. she can be bitter.

..was it really cheating?

"hey, max?" el asks, her voice raspy.

"yeah?" max rubs the washcloth over el's thigh.

"..did he cheat on me?" max's hand freezes. "soul marks, they only show up when.. when you kiss your soulmate in the right place. will's was on his chest."

she'd been having this debate with herself for.. a while. she had just tried to ignore it when it first happened, but now..

"yeah, probably," max admits, looking guilty. she reaches into the tub and pulls up the plug. "i.. don't know all the details. will didn't tell and i didn't wanna ask."

"but?"

"but they were probably.. y'know, fucking around when it happened." max stands up, grabbing the towel she had next to her and putting it on the sink counter.

"..oh." el doesn't know why that makes her heart sink the way it does. she knew it was coming, but hearing someone else say it..

"c'mon, el, let's not think too hard about it. what's done is done," max helps el pull herself up, before wrapping her in the towel. "there's more to worry about than stupid boys."

el wraps her arms around herself. "like what?"

"like those blueberry and chocolate chip pancakes that have been waitin' for you for the past 20 minutes!" and just like that, max's voice is back to normal, playful and teasing instead of crooning.

she grins at el, and el can't help but grin back.

\--

max helps her get dressed, putting her in shorts and a huge sweater, and opens the window in her bedroom to air it out.

they eat stupid amounts of pancakes and watch a _she-ra_ vhs tape, and max talks about dyeing their hair to match the characters.

it makes el laugh, for the first time in a while.

\--

el doesn't stop thinking about the moment for the next few days. she gets flustered each time she passes her bathroom, no matter how chaste it was.

\--

it's a few days later when dustin shows up at her door, his car keys in his hand and a huge smile on his face.

el pointedly ignores the concern in his eyes, though guilt does bloom in her stomach.

"we, dustin henderson and el..anor-" dustin falters as someone walks down the shared hallway of the apartment complex, saving himself in time, "jane hopper, are going on a drive."

el raises an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the edges of her lips. "where?" she runs a hand through her hair, which is definitely less greasy than it was when max popped in.

she's been taking better care of herself.. a little.

she's been showering like a normal person, at least. she hasn't had energy to cook or clean, not since that strange burst of energy two weeks ago.

so, at the very least, she's already ready to go out with dustin. she just needs to change.

"nowhere. anywhere! we're just gonna drive and see where it lands us." dustin smiles at her, before shouldering past her gently to get into the apartment. "go get changed, el, 'cause we're goin' on a whirlwind adventure."

he doesn't comment on the sink full of dishes, or how it smells stuffy in the apartment, or how there's an empty bag of chips on the coffee table.

he's always been polite like that, knowing when to keep his mouth shut.

..sometimes, at least.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dustin and el have a feelings jam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pounding fists on table* info dump info dump info dump  
> i hope we get to see more of these twos interactions in season 4. i love their dynamic!!!

el decides on dark washed jeans and a peach colored tie-dye t-shirt, which dustin gives an approving thumbs up to.

she still feels a little weird, wearing normal clothes after living in her pajamas for weeks. 

she doesn't bother putting on a bra. dustin doesn't say anything about it.

the two of them listen to the radio as he drives, el's eyes closed as she lets the breeze from the open window and the sun hit her face.

she's so pale she almost glows in the dark at this point, and she hasn't left the house since before she and mike broke up. her skin greedily drinks up the much needed sunlight.

dustin's been quiet for 5 minutes.

_a new record,_ el thinks in the back of her mind.

"so, mike came over yesterday." dustin says, as soon as she thinks that. he doesn't even glance over at her as he speaks, keeping his eyes on the road.

el has to bite back a scowl, opening her eyes to look at dustin. "and?"

"he wanted some relationship advice."

"are him and will having trouble?" she smushes down the bloom of petty happiness that comes from that thought.

dustin snorts, though there's not a lot of humor behind it. "c'mon, el." he says, giving her a pointed look. "i don't trust mike's word, so.. tell me what's going on with you two."

"why don't you trust mike?" she raises an eyebrow at him.

"el, i love mike," she winces, just a little bit, "but he definitely has a victim complex."

"vic-tim.. complex?" she asks, testing the word out in her mouth. she definitely knows more than she did as a kid, but..

well, no one can know every word.

"like, okay, he thinks that he's always the victim of something, even if he was the douche in the situation." dustin explains.

el snorts. "okay, yeah."

"so?" dustin pries. "what's going on?"

it's quiet for a few moments as el carefully chooses her words. dustin doesn't pry, or try to hurry her up. he just.. waits, patiently.

he wouldn't have done that when they were younger, el notes in the back of her mind. she glances over at him, sighing.

"when did you get so mature, dusty?" she asks, slumping back into her seat.

dustin snorts. "somewhere between killing monsters, getting chased by russians, finding a soulmate, and moving out on my own, i might've matured a little."

"yeah, a little." el rolls her eyes fondly.

"before we get too far into the subject of how awesomely mature i am, and i do wanna circle back to that," dustin turns down the radio a bit, "tell me about you and mike."

"nothing to tell. we just.. broke up." it's not necessarily a lie, but it's not the whole truth, and that makes el's stomach twist uncomfortably.

_friends don't lie._

what was it max said to her, all those years ago?

_boyfriends lie! all. the. time._

el bites back a bittersweet sort of grin. guess she wasn't wrong about that one, was she?

"somehow, i don't believe that."

"..we got into a fight," el sighs. "like, a bad fight. i broke up with him.. and kicked him out."

suddenly, talking feels like more work than it actually is. she's exhausted. tired from crying multiple times a day, from having to talk to dustin, from being outside.

it's too much. she misses her apartment.

"why'd you guys fight?" he laughs a bit. "other than the obvious reason of mike being an ass-"

"stop calling him that!" she blurts, a sudden spark of rage flickering throughout her body. she's.. not sure where it came from. dustin looks a bit surprised. "sorry.." el mumbles, her cheeks flushing as she shrinks in on herself.

"no, it's fine. this is good!" he beams at her. "let it out, el. tell me what's goin' on in that thinkpan of yours."

"thinkpan?"

dustin reaches over and taps the side of her head, causing her to let out a quiet _'ohh.'_

"i'm, just.." el huffs, trying to put her feelings into words. "tired of everyone being mean to him to me." 

dustin makes a _'go on'_ gesture with his hand.

"he was your friend first, not me." el tries to explain. "it.. feels like lying, if you're mean to him to me and then nice to him to him." 

dustin pauses, taking a few seconds to go over that sentence. "who said i was being nice to him to him?" he counters.

"huh?"

"look, el, you're right. mike was my friend first, and i love him, he's great! but he's a major dumbass, and i told him that. to his face."

el gives him a Look. "really?" she asks, a bit incredulous.

"really." dustin nods. "seriously, i told him straight up, he was being an ass."

"to his face?"

"to his face." dustin looks over at her when they reach a red light. "he, uh.. he asked if i think it could still work out between you two."

el's heart flips, which leads to a series of conflicting emotions. 

mike wants her back. does she want him back? does he just want to stop feeling guilty?

does she still love him?

"what did you say back?" she asks, her voice quiet.

dustin looks back towards the road, driving as the light turns green again. "i told him, 'can a relationship really work if one person wants to be out of it?'" he glances over at her. "do you want to be out of it?"

"i-" el flounders. "yes?"

dustin pulls over, and el realizes that they're parked in front of a gigantic park, one with a large expanse of grassy fields, two separate playgrounds with a few kids and parents in both, and two untouched picnic tables.

"you don't sound too sure about that." dustin says, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning to look at her, "and you never answered my question earlier. why'd you two fight?"

she much preferred when he was driving and not looking at her, she realizes. his expression is curious, and his eyes are a weird mixture of prying and softness, like he's trying to read her mind.

"it's, uh.. kinda stupid." she admits for the first time, her quiet voice startling her a bit.

"anything that pissed you off that bad couldn't have been stupid," dustin counters. "c'mon, try me."

el takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "don't laugh at me." she tells him, and he nods. "..he didn't take out the trash."

dustin looks nonplussed for a few seconds. "oh?" he says, making another _'go on'_ gesture with his hand.

"okay, so," el huffs out a breath, "it wasn't just once. he hadn't been taking them out for, like, weeks! it was his one job, other than splitting the bills," once el starts talking, she just.. can't stop.

"the night before we argued, he.. was supposed to take me out for dinner. a diner, one that we went to when we were first moving in." a wave of melancholy nostalgia washes over her. "he never showed up." 

"oh, el.." dustin sounds.. genuinely sad.

"i was wearing a dress, and i even put barrettes in my hair. i was wearing _makeup!_ "she sniffles, wiping frustrated tears from the corners of her eyes. "he never showed up. didn't even call me to tell me he wasn't showing up."

"jesus," dustin exhales, putting a hand on her knee, the warmth of his palm a nice contrast to the natural cold of her body.

"i was sitting in the living room after, like, hours of waiting, and i looked into the kitchen, and i saw that there was still trash in the can." she can still remember the moment it happened, and how she cried all of her mascara off while staring at a trashcan. "it was his one job, and he didn't do it when he was home, and he hadn't even been home in days, and.." she takes a deep breath.

dustin keeps looking at her, rubbing circles on her knee with his thumb, endlessly patient.

"i was really, really mad." she admits. "i called him- well, called will, because _of course_ he'd be there, and i just.. yelled at him. i hung up after my throat started hurting." she laughs hollowly. "he didn't come home that night, and i slept on the couch, because the bed still smelled like him, a little bit, and i was.. so, so mad. i accidentally broke one of our- _my_ cups."

"with your brain?"

el nods, laughing wetly. "i'm sorry," she says in a laugh, which turns very quickly into a strangled sob.

"why are you sorry?" dustin asks, scooting forward and holding her close. it's a bit awkward, with the gear stick between them, but it's.. so nice.

dustin's so warm, and big, and he smells like cologne and a bit like cigarettes and sugary sweetness, and she knows he won't let her go until she pulls away.

"don't have to deal with this," she says into his chest, soaking the cotton fabric with tears. she's so exhausted, she realizes faintly. she feels as if she's run out of words.

"i don't have to do anything, you're right," he runs a hand up and down her back, "but you're my friend, and i'm here for you. i'm not doing this out of obligation, el."

"ob-li-gation?" she tests out the word in her mouth. she's said it before, she thinks, and has definitely heard it before, but her head just feels.. empty.

"i'm not doing this because i have to," dustin rephrases. "i'm doing this because i want to."

he doesn't belittle her, or talk down to her. he never has, really, except for when they first met.

he can handle her so much better than mike ever could. 

at that thought, el lets out a whimpering sob, and dustin squeezes her gently.

"mike was been an asshole. you were right in doing what you did." dustin assures her. "he's.. kinda stupid, when it comes to people he loves. gets very wrapped up in that shit, y'know?"

el nods. is this how everyone else felt, back when they were all teenagers? ignored and hurt?

..oh god, is this how will felt?

"what made you upset wasn't stupid." dustin tells her. "i would've been fuckin' pissed too."

they just sit in silence for a while, dustin holding el as her sobs die down.

eventually, she sniffles, wiping her eyes, though the tears haven't really stopped. she pulls away from him, overheated and overstimulated from being touched for so long.

she.. misses human contact, other than what she's had with max, but it's so overwhelming.

too much all at once.

she slumps against the carseat, closing her eyes for a few seconds. "back home?" she asks, her voice crackling. 

"you wanna go back to your place?" he asks.

she nods. "too much," she says, gesturing to the park, full of screaming children and exhausted parents.

"got it. want me to stick around? we can play candyland." he wiggles his fingers at her in a silly, mystical way, and she giggles.

"candyland." she says firmly, her cheeks still stained with tears. "and takeout?"

"whatever you want, el." he says as he buckles himself in. "you know i'm not picky."

she smiles at him, a fond warmth spreading throughout her chest, replacing the aching bitterness that had been gnawing at her for weeks.

\--

it's a few hours later, when they're eating greek food and playing monopoly, when she feels as if she can talk again.

dustin has been filling up the quiet with his endless chatter, as well as with the movie they left on the TV.

"i never answered your other question. y'know, earlier," she begins. "i do want out of it, i think."

"yeah?" dustin moves his piece, looking up at her.

she nods. "it's just.. we were together for so long. it's weird, knowing that it's really over." she sighs. "i just wasn't happy."

"i understand." dustin assures, taking a bite out of his salad. "trust me, el. i think we all understand, other than mike. shit, will probably understands."

el laughs, a bit hollow.

"yeah, i bet he does."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this chapter was a bit exposition-y ;;

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at plastic-spiders.tumblr.com! come say hi :)


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